Smitten
by Semebay
Summary: The story of Alfred's first love


**Original Publication Date: **February 10, 2010

If anyone asked, Arthur would tell them that the time he spent with Alfred was peaceful, and, for the most part, rather uneventful (he repressed the mud and grime).

If anyone asked Alfred, he would say it was always an adventure (before the revolution of course).

But neither party would ever admit that Alfred's first love had been a small child with unusually large eyebrows; one was unaware of the fact, and the other had long forgotten.

It had been a simple ritual, one that Arthur had performed so many times before.  
_  
Sage here, onion root there, salt from the sea and dust from the land._

Arthur had looked down at the pentagram eagerly, cursing Francis with all his might, wishing hell upon him for the seventeenth century (and all following centuries).

He performed the ritual weekly, strengthening it, cursing the frog.  
_  
And then everything went black._

~*~

Alfred had watched the ritual with wonder from the doorway, remaining silent in spite of the overwhelming urge to ask questions, to find out _exactly what Arthur was up to._

It was blatantly obvious when the ritual was finished, exactly _what_ Arthur had planned._  
_  
Arthur had fallen when a bright light had flashed, then been absorbed by the darkness.

And in his place was a tiny bundle, wrapped in a coarse piece of green fabric, a dull green that couldn't compare to the emeralds that looked out from the depths of the bundle.

And as Alfred watched, the eyes seemed to grow as they shook themselves from the fabric, looked around, and then returned to him hesitantly.

And Alfred was smitten.

Alfred's bright blue eyes shone with wonder and desire as he watched the child stand on shaky legs and pull the dull green cloak tightly around him. Then those large brows lowered over those eyes, and the child was glaring at Alfred, suspicion etched into his face and body posture.

"Arfur!" Alfred chirped, and before the other youth could begin to understand what was happening, Alfred was hugging him, twirling him around and lifting him off the ground.

But Arthur didn't know the language of the young colony. He was sputtering angrily, his limbs flailing wildly as Alfred spun him.

"Arfur," Alfred said when he finally lowered the nation to the ground. The other began to shout in his language, scurrying away to hide behind a chair. Alfred watched with a delighted grin as Arthur peeked through the legs, his eyes narrowing more with every passing moment.

Alfred had fallen _hard_, and Arthur was going to return the feelings if Alfred had to stick to him every passing moment of the rest of their eternally long lives.

"Arfur, come pway," Alfred sang, and the shorter child gave a start when he realized that Alfred was moving closer.

He did _not_ like that.

Arthur was already looking for a means of escape, the door, the window, the _other_ window. He made a move towards the door, deeming it closer as he darted around Alfred and ran for it.

Of course, Alfred was a child in love. And he wanted _Arthur._

"Pway, Arfur!" Alfred repeated when he grabbed the other around the midsection and lugged him off, wandering through the halls of the house as Arthur struggled, spewing various curses and obscenities far too vulgar for a child his age.

~*~

Alfred was quickly discovering that Arthur wasn't the type to "sit pretty and play". In fact, Arthur did everything _opposite_ his expectations. He tried to break the window, he smashed furniture, he overturned a large plate of food that one of the maids had served (though he ate the charcoal scones that were on a tray on a table).

He was a menace.

And Alfred couldn't be happier.

Arthur ran from one end of the house to the other, a game that Alfred had quickly decided to join. So while Arthur fled in terror and rage, Alfred chased his love with as much energy as he could, letting him run ahead and then speeding slightly to catch up. And then he would slow down to let him get farther away before he decided to catch up again.

It was a fun game, Alfred decided.

Arthur was too terrified to come to a decision on the entire thing.

"Arfur!" Alfred would chirp, and then (to Arthur's immense relief), he stopped pursuing the other child.

In fact, he left him alone.

Arthur would have rather fled through a window, but he was exhausted, and leaned against a chair to catch his breath.

He was prepared to run when Alfred came thumping out of the room he had disappeared into, but his eyes locked on the thing in Alfred's arms and he felt his tiny jaw drop open.

The white rabbit was the prettiest thing in the house.

"'s Bunny, Arfur!" Alfred said proudly as he thrust the rabbit forward, and Arthur blinked. The pink nose twitched as the animal watched him, its eyes looking unusually soft considering its owner.

Arthur's eyes softened slightly, and Alfred seemed to catch on. He bent down and let the rabbit go, watching it hop away. Arthur watched Alfred warily, then he decided that he would follow the rabbit across the floor, and coax it into his arms.

Because what little child didn't love rabbits?

~*~

Arthur had finally figured out that if he didn't run, then Alfred didn't chase.

And he had finally gotten a good look at the colony.

Alfred was a really pretty girl.

Arthur set himself to play with the rabbit and to not look at the girl, still wary of the other. After all, only the day before his brothers had been picking on him (again). The little girl could just be a trick. A cruel (but pretty) trick.

A trick that was currently hanging off his arm.

Arthur wasn't sure when that had happened, but from this angle, the other child had really pretty eyes.

And then other child was hugging him, babbling in her strange language, her voice like the birds from his home (he knew this place wasn't his home, with the white ground and trees). The girl was pinching his cheeks, laughing, and he could feel a strange warmth in his cheeks.

Then the girl kissed his cheek, and he ducked his head.

~*~

Alfred was so excited. Arthur was so _pretty_ and _wonderful_, and _his_ size, and he liked to play with Bunny, and the list went on and on.

As Arthur looked at him with an expression of confusion and wariness, Alfred happily patted his head, further confusing the other.

"Arfur, wet's go ou'side!" Alfred said giddily, and then he was dragging his friend outside, into the cold.

Arthur promptly let out a squeal of indignation and began to curse in his weird language once more, something that Alfred assumed to mean he was _very_ interested in joining him outside in the snow.

"I gotta show ya," Alfred said as he skipped through the powder, yanking Arthur around with him. "Made a snowman!"

And then he was showing the snowman to Arthur, dragging Arthur around the back and cheerfully explaining exactly how he made it, where he had found the sticks and the coal, and the carrot for the nose (_"but don't tew Bunny I used 'er snack, she'w be mad"_).

And Arthur simply let himself be pulled along, looking reserved and a little bit red.

~*~

Arthur didn't have any idea what the little girl was talking about, but seeing her dance around like that was really cute. He wondered if they had met before, or if she had seen him (_watched him from the woods_), because the person made of snow has enormous eyebrows, made of many tiny twigs.

For once, he really liked his eyebrows.

Then he began to feel really cold, and he found that the girl had taken his cloak, and was running around with it fluttering behind her.

Arthur was, understandably, confused. The girl didn't act like anyone he had ever seen before, and he bit his lower lip.

Then the girl was grabbing him again, chirping like a bird and pulling him back into the house that she had originally pulled him out of (and he was relieved, because it was_ freezing_ outside).

The girl wasted no time in jumping around on the chairs and tables within, making odd _whoosh_ noises and flapping her arms. She waved the cape with her hands, grabbing it and twirling it around her.

Arthur hesitantly followed her, and then she was grinning, grabbing his arms and pulling him along with her. He stumbled as he followed her, but she was so pretty that he didn't even notice when he hit his toe on a bookshelf. She hopped up and down, running back into another room and grabbing a piece of bread from the table. She offered it to him, and he took it slowly. Afterall, he had to be nice to pretty ladies (even if the darker food on the table looked more tasty).

Speaking of dark, the light was leaving (not that it had been very light earlier, with all the clouds in the sky).

"You're really pretty," Arthur said, but the girl kept babbling on as though she hadn't heard him. He watched her, noting how she salvaged some of the food he had almost ruined earlier (_oops_) and avoiding the darker food. He reached over and took some of the food she avoided, and she watched him intently as he ate it.

~*~

Arthur _really_ liked the food he made, even as a kid.

Alfred was impressed. And when Arthur yawned? He was _so cute_!

And when Arthur yawned again, it occurred to him that Arthur was _tired_.

"We sweep!" Alfred informed him, dragging him from the room. Arthur looked alarmed again (_he was so cute_), and then Alfred was pushing him onto his bed, settling in and grinning like the little gentleman he was for his precious friend.

"Sweep, Arfur!"

Then Alfred was tucking himself in beside Arthur, wondering why he was so red. And he pulled him close in a hug, their foreheads touching, and he closed his eyes.

~*~

Arthur stared at the girl as she climbed into bed with him, and he could feel his flaming burning up with shock and embarassment. Did this mean they were married? Because she was really cute, and if they were married, well...

She was really cute.

Arthur watched as she fell asleep, obviously exhausted. She cuddled up beside him, her cheek touching his hand, and he swooned.

She was _really_ cute.

"You're pretty," he mumbled, wishing that somehow she could hear and understand what he was saying.

Of course, she was sleeping, so he couldn't.

He wanted to wake her up and talk to her, but she was tired (she did run around a lot, after all). He settled on watching her sleep, listening to her mumble things under her breath, and decided that he would tell her again tomorrow.

Maybe then she would understand.

~*~

The next morning, Arthur woke confused and slightly stiff. When he looked to his side, he found that Alfred had latched onto his arm during the night (when had the child come in?), drooling on his shirt and covered in some old piece of green fabric (honestly, it looked ancient and probably covered in disease).

Arthur slowly took the fabric away, determined to burn it later (even if it looked slightly important). And when he walked through the house, through the kitchen, he had time to wonder:

Why were there scones on the ceiling?

And in time, he would also wonder where Alfred had learned those delightfully frightful Olde English curses.

~*~

Arthur stirred, opening his eyes blearily. He grumbled something and moved his arm, trying to remember what had woken him.

Some kind of dream? His eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and he stared at the chest on the other side of the room, the various articles of clothing that had managed to catch on it and avoid the floor. He moved to sit up, feeling a sudden urge to go outside, but an arm draped across his chest kept him pinned to the bed.

"Stay 'n bed." Alfred turned his head slightly, but his voice was still horribly muffled by the pillow.

"I want to go for a walk," Arthur muttered, trying to move Alfred's arm off of him.

Alfred simply pulled him closer.

"Bu' 's cold out," Alfred grumbled. "Jus' stay 'ere an' sleep."

Arthur sighed and Alfred pulled the covers up over him, not bothering to move anything but his arm. Then he pulled Arthur closer once again and moved his head from the pillow to Arthur's shoulder, breathing deeply.

"Right," Arthur breathed, turning towards the younger man and watching him.

Then he closed his eyes and let himself return to his dreams.


End file.
